


rest his weary bones.

by mmmmmack



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: 5 Times, Adopted Sibling Relationship, Gen, Sibling Bonding, dual inquisitor au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-28
Updated: 2020-11-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:26:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27748975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mmmmmack/pseuds/mmmmmack
Summary: “Where are we… what’s this cut in our hands, and who was that woman?”Elias’s head snapped up in recognition. His memory was foggy and missing pieces, but one of the last things that were clear in his mind was a glowing woman reaching out to him and Mio amongst a rocky wasteland.“Divine Justinia…” he answered.Mio’s face was blank. “I don’t know who that is, but I think this mark is important.”The following silence was deafening; the sound of blood rushing past his ears overwhelmed his senses. Elias tried to keep up an air of stability, for the sake of his younger sibling, but he could tell from the knowing look they were giving him, there wasn’t any use attempting to provide false hope.“We… we aren’t going home for a while,” it was more of a question than a statement.Elias deflated. “No, no I don’t think we are.”The five times Inquisitor Castillo had to be an older brother and the one time he didn't.





	rest his weary bones.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [badlydrawn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/badlydrawn/gifts).



1.

9:31 Dragon

Elias had long since learned to be quiet when adults were talking, especially when they were talking about him. He sat at the edge of a clearing, his back against a thick tree trunk, and his hands folded in his lap; no matter how tightly he held them, they wouldn’t still. He watched the group of elves in front of him speak in hushed, conspiratorial tones. He didn’t understand what they were saying but somehow knew it was about him and it was _bad._

Against his will, his chest began rising and falling quicker; his breath came out in short puffs. His lips pursed as tears began to cloud his vision. 

If he was being honest with himself, Elias didn’t think he would make it this far. Escaping from Kinloch Hold was always a far-fetched idea, a dream that comforted him at night; even when the plan began to formulate, he convinced himself he was crazy just from the number of things that could go wrong. Then he did it, and he wasn’t caught, and he _survived,_ but he was alone. 

_Just like he was in the tower._

Looking down at his hands, he saw blood prickling at the edge of his right thumb. Subconsciously, he’d been digging his nail into it. A hollow rattle reached his ears and he realized a few seconds later that it came from him. His hands squeezed tighter around each other, his eyes screwed shut to block out the world around him.

Then, he felt a soft pressure on his hands. Opening his eyes, he saw small, childlike hands that matched the color of tree trunks bathed in sunlight patting his own; the hands belonged to a young child who seemed to be drowning in their dense curls. The child’s eyes were round and open, darting back and forth quickly as if they were searching Elias’s. They titled their head to one side and worried their bottom lip between their teeth. They then asked him something in a language he didn’t understand. 

He moved his hair so that it showed the small, soft point of his ears. “I’m sorry.”

The child’s eyes grew wide and let out a quiet noise of surprise. “Oh!”

They moved to sit in front of him, their feet kicking against one another. Turning to look at the adult elves deep in discussion, they placed their hands in their lap in a similar fashion to Elias.

“They aren’t saying anything bad, you know,” the child spoke with an accent that was unfamiliar to him, “They’re just…”

“Suspicious?” he offered with a harsh laugh.

“Scared.”

Elias averted his eyes. Suddenly, he realized he might’ve been the first human this child had ever seen, and for some reason, they didn’t seem afraid of him. 

He opened his mouth to ask where this fearlessness came from, but he was cut off by a female voice, causing both him and the child to flinch. 

A tall and muscular elven girl came from the edge of the discussion circle; she walked quickly toward them with fire in her eyes, long braids bouncing on her shoulders. She looked similar to the child in front of him, so Elias guessed they were siblings, but the girl was older, possibly about his age. 

The two spoke softly, but with matched intensity. The younger elf glanced over to Elias, then gasped as if they’d forgotten he was there.

“He can’t understand you…” they said.

The elven girl crossed her arms with a huff. “I don’t mean for him to understand me.”

“I… I don’t mean to cause any trouble for you—” Elias began apologetically.

She snapped her head in his direction and he crumbled under her gaze. “You, be quiet. Mio, don’t get your hopes up.”

“But, he might say yes!”

“And he’ll probably say no,” the older elf said, pinching the bridge of her nose.

Elias murmured, “Could I at least ask that you not talk about me as if I’m not here?”

“Since you want to be included so badly,” the girl began, “the adults are trying to figure out what to do with you.”

The edge that was previously in her voice had diminished as if she couldn’t convince herself to play the role of assertive older sister anymore. She moved closer toward the young child in a motion that Elias understood to be protection; he’d seen it before and done it himself for younger mages in the Circle. 

However, the small elf wiggled from behind her and pushed their way to stand in front of their sister. They presented him with a face-splitting smile before saying simply,

“They want to know if you can stay.”

From that small action, a feeling of fondness washed over him and a hesitant smile came to his lips. 

* * *

  
2\. 

9:32 Dragon

“Mio, come down from there!”

The elf in question was trying to balance themself on a much too-skinny tree branch. The tree itself was sturdy enough; it had to be at least 200 years old, but the young elf was so high and was being so careless. Looking up at them, Elias could see that safety was the last thing on Mio’s mind. 

Their expression was one of tense focus with their eyebrows furrowed and their tongue sticking slightly out. The child was focused on the branch in front of them, the mathematical equations needed to predict their landing clearly shown on their face. 

Once, Elias realized what they were trying to do, his heart dropped into his stomach. His hands began to shake. A strange fear overwhelmed him; he didn’t understand its source, only that it was like ice water replaced the blood in his veins.

“Mio, don’t! You’ll fall!” his voice wasn’t as steady as he’d hoped it would be.

Mio responded only with a full-bodied laugh. “And Dahn’aen will be displeased, I bet.”

“That doesn’t begin to describe it,” Elias muttered.

The farther down the branch and closer toward the next tree over Mio walked, Elias followed them on the ground below. He imagined that should they fall, he would catch them; the truth was, he doubted he could keep both of them from getting hurt if it came down to it.

They were poised on the edge of the branch, their heels together. The look of concentration hadn’t left their features, but a smirk had overtaken their lips. A small twinge of envy struck Elias in his chest; he longed to be able to be free such as this, to face the world with defiance and laughter, to not be afraid of what was staring back at you. The world had taken his chance at childhood away from him, so he would protect Mio’s ability to be as childish and immature as they wanted for as long as they wanted.

But they wouldn’t have a childhood to enjoy if they fell out of this tree and died.

“Come on, Mio, just climb back down.”

Instead, they bent their knees and leaped toward the branch… and missed. The young elf scrambled for a handhold, anything to slow or stop their fall, but nothing was within arm’s reach.

Adrenaline flooded Elias’s body as he moved to try to catch them, but he was too late. They hit the forest floor with a hollow thud and a low whine.

Elias rushed to his knees beside them, afraid to touch or move them in case something was broken. He tenderly lifted their head so that it rested in his lap, causing them to make another pitiful noise.

 _“Nua…”_ the child croaked out.

“I know it does. Don’t move, I’m sure it feels worse than it really is.”

“You didn’t… didn’t even say ‘I told you so,’” Mio said, a laugh turning into a cough.

“At least you learned your lesson,” said Elias, the edges of his eyes crinkling. “And you won’t do it again, will you?”

The elf just gave him a lazy grin, then a wince.

Elias sighed. “Of course you will.”

* * *

  
3.

9:34 Dragon

From what he observed, Elias figured out that Mio was in a mood, a bad one. The sky was almost completely black, save for a touch of orange and purple mixing near the horizon. Mio sat near the edge of the tree line, virtually out of reach of the bonfire in the middle of the encampment. 

Elias sat next to the young elf, watching amusedly as their pout deepened with his arrival.

“Well, you don’t look very happy,” he started with an awkward grin.

An indignant puff of air left their nostrils. “I’m not _not_ happy, I suppose.”

Silence then filled the space between them. Elias observed Mio while they sat; their eyes were focused on the bonfire up ahead, looking at Dahn’aen skip around it with a fruit tart in hand. The firelight reflected in their eyes made their irises look like pools of melted gold.

“Well,” he said, “what are you feeling right now?”

A strangled sound came from the back of their throat, _“Teleolasan!_ Like a sick, churning in my stomach, but a burning in my chest. Little pinpricks behind my eyes and my hands won’t stop shaking!”

“Sounds like jealousy to me,” Elias placed a reassuring hand on their shoulder.

“Jealous? Of what?”

Elias gave them a knowing look. “I think you know.”

At that, the pout returned now that they knew the name of the beast tormenting them.

Ever since Elias had met them, he saw that the two siblings were formidable mages. Their magic had been free to develop wildly as they were unrestrained by the strict rules one was taught in the Circles. Dahn’aen always exceeded her young sibling, though, because it was easier for her to apply her talents across a wide range of magic types while Mio specialized in one.

“Do you think Baba is proud of me?” the elf’s voice sounded paper-thin. 

Elias’s chest squeezed in on itself. The desperate tone that undercut their voice physically pained him to hear; the desire to have someone be proud of you was one he was all too familiar with. The elf was so young, but already a talented shapeshifter; they were always so eager and willing to learn, which Elias admired. Anyone who spent time around them could see the dozens of good qualities Mio had shine through, but no one was harder on themself than they were.

Elias shifted closer to them, fully wrapping his arm around their shoulder, “Anyone who can call you their child would be proud of you, anyone who can not is envious.”

Mio looked up at Elias, eyes watery and filled to bursting with tears. Their bottom lip quivered. They shook their head so that their long, thick hair covered their ears; the elf then tucked their head between their knees and cried. 

Elias gathered them into his arms and lay them against his side. And he let them cry until they fell asleep.

* * *

4.

9:41 Dragon

The first thing Elias felt was white-hot pain shooting up his arm. He screwed his eyes shut and hugged his right hand to his chest. The next thing he noticed was a pair of blood-curdling screams. One, he realized, was coming from him; it felt as if it was drawing bile up his throat, and caused a searing agony, unlike anything he’d felt before. After the pain dulled marginally and he opened his eyes, he saw that the other came from Mio.

Rushing to their side, he tried to shush them; he examined their unfamiliar surroundings and came to the conclusion that they were in a cell. The young elf’s cries had been quieted to hushed sobs as a bright, neon green light emitted from their left hand. 

“It… it hurts,” they said, their voice a whisper.

Elias tried to hide his own hand. “I know, firefly. Let me see it.”

Timidly, Mio showed their hand to him. It seemed as if someone had taken a knife to the middle of the elf’s palm, an ugly gash with faint green energy pulsating rhythmically; around the mark, an intricate swirling pattern twisted around it so that the entirety of the palm was covered in lines. The wound made him grimace as the thought crossed his mind that his hand looked similar to theirs.

Then, simultaneously, both their hands came alight with the same green energy from before; another pair of screams filled the space before the pain eventually subsided, their wails echoing off the stone walls around them.

“You have it too, don’t you?”

Elias averted his eyes. There was a lot about this situation he didn’t understand. His mind was already full of possibilities that were mostly bad. The uncertainties loomed large, turning his mind into an overwhelmed machine running inputs and shooting out unsatisfactory outputs.

A faint pressure on his thigh brought him back to reality. Mio’s unwounded hand was pressing slightly on his leg and the two shared a meaningful look before Elias took a shaky breath. 

“I have a lot of questions,” Mio said, looking at their hand with disgust, “but I don’t think you have many answers.”

Elias nodded. “Ask them anyway, it’s too quiet here.”

The elf’s brows knitted together in confusion, then smoothed as it looked like they’d had a moment of clarity. A small weight lifted from his chest, thankful that they had understood what he was really saying.

“Where are we… what’s this cut in our hands, and who was that woman?”

Elias’s head snapped up in recognition. His memory was foggy and missing pieces, but one of the last things that were clear in his mind was a glowing woman reaching out to him and Mio amongst a rocky wasteland.

“Divine Justinia…” he answered.

Mio’s face was blank. “I don’t know who that is, but I think this mark is important.”

The following silence was deafening; the sound of blood rushing past his ears overwhelmed his senses. Elias tried to keep up an air of stability, for the sake of his younger sibling, but he could tell from the knowing look they were giving him, there wasn’t any use attempting to provide false hope.

“We… we aren’t going home for a while,” it was more of a question than a statement.

Elias deflated. “No, no I don’t think we are.”

Suddenly, the door at the front of the cell burst open and two women strode in confidently. One immediately began to circle around them; her hair was dark and cut messily with a rat’s tail of a braid wrapped around her head. A sword was swinging threateningly on her hip and her hand was trained on it.

The other Elias recognized as a Chantry sister, Leliana. She’d been a sort of surrogate mother to him, though they saw each other more like siblings. A light purple hood covered her hair, but a few red strands escaped and framed her face. Her expression was fierce, but a knowing glint in her eyes let him know that she held no hostility toward them.

The dark-haired woman walked behind the two slowly, analyzing them. The intense gaze burned holes into the back of Elias’s neck. He glanced toward Mio and saw them trying to hide their ears beneath their hair and tuck their wounded hand under their legs.

The woman finally stopped moving and glared at them. Her features were contorted into a displeased scowl as if she had come across an unpleasant smell. 

Bending down slightly to reach Elias’s ear, she spoke with an accent he hadn’t ever heard, “Tell me why we shouldn’t kill you now.”

* * *

5.

9:41 Dragon

“You spend quite a bit of time out here.”

Without turning around, the person in question answered, “I… yes, I suppose I do.”

Elias approached the young elf. They were bent down on their knees in front of a small patch of earth which they had begun cultivating into a garden of sorts. It contained flowers of all kinds; while on missions, Mio could frequently be found gathering seeds from unknown plants to bring back to their garden in hopes of having them grow there.

It served as a respite for them, Elias had come to notice. Whenever they were upset, they would storm off to that garden and sit for sometimes hours, alone save for the nature that surrounded them. 

At the moment, their hands and clothes were caked in dirt. It appeared that they were pulling weeds from the enclosed area, but they made sure to keep the roots intact; if the bottles of propagated leaves and stems scattered around their portion of the siblings’ shared suite had anything to say about it, he was confident in what they were going to do with those weeds. 

Next to them was a large and elegant flower with curling violet-blue petals sitting pathetically in a pot. 

“Do you plan to re-pot this?” he asked, touching the petals softly and it seemed to curl in on itself more.

“Oh, that?” Mio went back to extracting the weeds, “I’d like to but I don’t know if I can. The Commander gave it to me after trying to salvage it; in truth, he probably made it worse.”

The thought of Cullen trying to garden made Elias laugh quietly to himself. 

“I’m not sure what it is,” they continued, “but it’s clear as a lake that it prefers shade to sun.”

Elias noticed a patch of grass that was shielded from the sun by a tree that reached over it. Thinking himself useful, he picked up the delicate bloom and set it down near the roots of the tree and smiled as it unfurled slightly. When he turned around, Mio was giving a look of confused amusement. 

“Did you need something…?”

He shook his head. “I just wanted to watch.”

“Hm,” they said, and carried on with their work.

For a while, the two existed in comfortable silence, broken occasionally by Elias asking about what plant was which and what properties it had, if any. The fact that Mio didn’t seem bothered by his presence made the man happy, to say the least. Being an inquisitor was emotionally taxing, lonely, and foreign; he knew that he was surrounded by well-qualified and competent people, but in the back of his mind he thought that he shouldn’t be the one leading them. One of the only things that kept him grounded was the little elf with a brilliant mind and sharp wit to match that was stuck in the same situation he was. 

“That one,” the elf started, pointing to a newly matured flower in the corner of their garden, “is originally from Tevinter, you know.”

Elias met their eyes with shock and a knowing smile contrasted with his stupefied pout. He stumbled over an answer causing Mio to snort loudly. After recovering from the initial surprise, he walked over toward the flower.

It was shaped like a cup, but tilted outward slightly to create a narrow upside-down bell. The end of the petals was a golden yellow while the inside transitioned to a deep and rich turquoise. It almost seemed to beckon him closer, as if it was aware of its own beauty. 

“I’d let you take it, if you wanted to,” Mio mused, looking all too pleased with themself.

“But— how did you even—“

They waved their hand in the air, dismissing his confusion lightly. Once it was clear that they would not be answering any of his questions, Elias received the plant in a wooden pot and instructions on how to take care of it. 

“You’re welcome, _ellas!”_

He paused at the use of the Elvhen word rather than his name but then chuckled under his breath when he realized what Mio had truly meant to do a little too late.

_Hope._

“Thank you,” he said, _“mioluvun.”_

* * *

6.

9:41 Dragon

In all his 25 years of living, Elias couldn’t think of a time when he was more nervous than now. He supposed his Harrowing was a strong contender, but at least if he failed that, he wouldn’t have to live with the memory; if he failed this, he would have to face Josephine.

He’d tried to adopt Mio’s enthusiasm for visiting the Winter Palace, but no amount of forced excitement could quell his stomach from turning knots. Looking at himself in the mirror only made his anxiety worse.

The clothes themselves weren’t the problem; in fact, he rather liked them. The issue came when he put them on. He wasn’t one to dress up for anything, really. Most days, he wandered Skyhold in his nightclothes, as he saw no reason to put anything else on. But, as Josephine loved to remind him, in diplomacy, appearances were half the negotiations; and in Orlais, appearances were both the battle and the war. 

He moved stiffly in his overcoat, afraid to ruin the fine piece of clothing in any regard. His fingers ghosted over the white detailing along the cuffs and collar; if he put his doubts to the back of his mind, the clothes picked out for him really did suit him. It was just so unlike what he was used to and made him look so different from himself, but he could endure the awkwardness for a night.

He made his way down to where everyone else had gathered, making sure to avoid anyone who was wandering around. He didn’t want anyone to see him before they had to. 

Once he finally reached the judgment hall, the entire Inner Circle was standing around as if they were waiting for him. Feeling his heart drop into his stomach, he searched the room for Mio. 

He saw that they were off to one side being lectured by Josephine; Mio looked as if they were about to fall asleep, most likely hearing the same warnings repeated to them ever since the Inquisition had planned to go to Halamshiral. 

When they made eye contact with him, a huge smile split their face and their golden-brown eyes sparkled.

“See!” they exclaimed, running up to him, “my brother looks quite nice all dressed up, doesn’t he, Dorian?”

The mention of the Tevinter mage made Elias stare very intently at the ground, though that didn’t stop the blood rushing to his face and ears.

“Ah, that he does,” came Dorian’s reply.

It was at that moment that Elias actually _looked_ at Mio. Their outfit matched their personality perfectly, all shimmering and bold. Their hair was tied into an intricate half-up half-down style with gold thread weaved in and out of the braids there.

“Transparent?” he asked nervously, looking down at their top.

“Translucent, actually,” Mio replied, laughing. “Do you like it?”

A smile came to Elias’s face gradually as he watched his younger sibling show their outfit to him. Against his wishes, his eyes began to water and tears fell one by one. He registered the swelling feeling in his chest as pride. Seeing Mio so confidently stride across the room and commanding it with their presence gave him a strange sense of giddiness that caused a giggle to bubble up from within him. He knew instinctively that they weren’t afraid of Halamshiral or the Winter Palace or the Orlesians, and somehow, that made him less afraid as a result. Despite neither of them knowing anything about diplomacy, Mio was ready to face that challenge headfirst; he saw how they tried futilely to hide their bouncing on their heels.

“I didn’t think it was that bad!” Mio’s worried voice cut through his introspection. “Though it’s a bit late to change, so this has to do.”

Elias’s giggle turned into a full-bodied laugh. “No, no, I love it, firefly.”

Mio gave him a tight hug in response.

_I really do love it, firefly. All of it._


End file.
